


Support

by Luna (LVNA)



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: F/M, haikus are hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-15
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2019-05-23 13:35:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14935271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LVNA/pseuds/Luna
Summary: A poetic tribute to Camilla and Niles who are actually a match made in heaven.Alternately, “cmon you’ve gotta talk to someone more than thrice to fall in love...”





	Support

The first time Niles saw her, he noticed her figure. It was hard not to. The pinch of her waist, the lift of her chest. Yet there was more to her beauty that took longer to notice. Long, full eyelashes, gracefully curled and feathery, yet dark with some unspoken lament. Full, plush lips, soft in texture, but pulled into a thin smile burdened with a duty that only the onyx circlet on her forehead could explain. Crown Princess Camilla of Nohr lowers her eyes to meet his. Her irises are a warm lilac, but her gaze is a cold, unflinching glare that chills him to his very core. He decides he doesn't trust her. 

 

She is a rose, ripe with rich, pretty petals, but armed with hundreds of thorns. The glint of light against the steel of her axe as she brings it down is her bite of the thorn. Her movement is like a beautiful storm, deadly yet impressive. Unstoppable. Her fervor is painted across the fields in enemy blood. It's a gruesome spectacle you can't tear your eyes away from. 

 

Niles is entrusted with a message to deliver to none other than the rose of the battlefield herself. A simple task that should've taken little time, but he finds himself unwilling to disturb her. She is distracted, her eyes cast downwards at the pages of the book she is reading. She is comfortably off guard in the safety of her home's library, and there is a rare peace to her aura. Her posture is natural, as is the small smile that graces her cheeks. She is so serene like this. She turns a page. He stops, realizing he'd been staring. He clears his throat, enters the room. 

 

The tumultuous nature of warfare and the panic of a strategy fallen through push the two together, the maw of her snarling wyvern pointed in the same direction as the razor sharp edge of his arrow. They synergize surprisingly well. They are deadly, ruthless, and efficient. It's a dance of death. They hold up well, until a stray arrow finds itself hurtling towards the pair. He thinks quick and traces its path. It will strike her in the chest, knocking her clean and dead off her mount. Niles of all people knows this. 

 

Without thought, he jumps. 

As if he’d planned it. Perhaps 

In his mind, he had. 

 

Second Princess Elise of Nohr flicks him in the forehead when he wakes, and promptly calls Niles a "dummy" for making her siblings worry. He finds this more hurtful than other, more vulgar things he’s used to being called, but in a playful kind of way. Her childlike attitude is, surprisingly, improving the mood of even someone as cynical as he is, though he's still understandably confused. Worry? He's a simple servant, not anyone a royal should be thinking twice about. But later when his liege scolds him for his rashness, he begins to wonder if this is what family is. When those around you genuinely care about your well being, instead of putting on a mask to gain favors. When the woman he saved comes to see him, he almost forgets she’s the legendary killer princess. Just her beauty alone makes him forget his pain. Gratitude glimmers in her eyes. It's a strange feeling, having value, and being a somebody...it's hard to remember love when you've never felt it. 

 

It's only habit for Camilla to shower her little siblings in affection, especially the one who almost didn't come back home to her. No one should ever have to feel alone as she once did, which is why she makes sure everyone is tended to. They’re her family. Which is why she's baffled when Niles mocks her for simply being kind to them. He calls her pathetic and sheltered, and though she gets the feeling he's just trying to get a rise out of her, she can't help but be bothered by it. Perhaps he just does it out of jealousy. She laughs to herself. The silly little thing. Camilla only has love in her heart. Sometimes it just translates to hatred for anyone who would dare hurt the things she loves. She gets just as much satisfaction polishing her axe as brushing her hair. 

 

They see each other at their worst. It was a costly victory. Her fresh tears mingle with the blood on her cheeks as she watches the healers mend her siblings, who are writing in pain in a temporary field hospital. Weary healers have all forms of bruises and scrapes, ignoring their own scuffs to tend to others before themselves. Caring for one another. He’s come to appreciate it. Niles as well wears the evidence of the lives he has taken today, both on his expression and stained armor. The color has faded from the crown princess’s cheeks, their former rosiness found now in the sanguine fluid dripping off the edge of her weapon. In her hair. In her eyes. Though the steel of her axe may not know emotion, it is her heart that feels the warmth of the blood she spills splattered against her skin. How many more must die? For once, the cold, almost cruel princess of Nohr betrays her reputation. She holds her sister’s hand tight as the younger girl pleas, sobbing, for it to stop hurting. Reminded of his failures on the battlefield, Niles utters an apology. She shakes her head, raising her hand to silence him, the rage in her eyes never dimming as she continues to soothe her sister. He hardly notices his own injuries as he leaves, the memory of her bloodstained violet hair fresh in his mind. It hurts him in a way he hasn’t ever felt before. Elise’s cries of pain ring in both their ears all night. 

 

He was wrong about her. She masks her torment so well that it’s easy to mistake her for another haughty blue blood. She is not like one of them. She is not the shrill laughter, gaudy dresses, and political marriages. 

 

She is the tempest,

and spring rain. She is death, 

and she is creation.

 

Her burden is her crown. Her duty is her family. Though her gaze was once iced with mistrust, it now burns with a bond strengthened only in the way hardship can do. 

 

A more genuine smile graces her lips. One he feels bound to protect. 

 

“Good evening, Niles.”

 

He kneels, staring at the floor.

 

“Princess...may I have a word with you?”

 

“Certainly, though you have no need to kneel in my presence anymore, stand up.” She begins. 

 

He rises, and looks her in the eyes. Her irises are a warm lilac, that heat even the blood flowing through his veins. 

 

“And please...” she continues. 

“...no more titles.”

 

He smiles. How can he resist a direct order from the queen of his heart?

 

“Very well, Camilla.”


End file.
